whirlwinds and spirals
by the lola
Summary: The minutes that everything spins out of control. The seconds that make you understand. The single moment that changes your life. That was Lily, it was always and forever Lily. - It's awful – she knows it's all awful, but there are just these moments that she lives for. And so she'll pretend because he's willing to pretend, just until there's nothing left pumping through his veins.
1. Chapter 1

**Word Count: **211

**Challenge/Competition: **Gift-Giving Extravaganza!

**Prompts:** _floor, grip, bright, LilyScorpius_

**Warnings: **None

**Disclaimer:** I don't claim to own Harry Potter, it's all JKR's.

**Note: **Lily and Scorpius are around 20 here. This is written for xThePaintedLady - only a month(?!) late! I'm so so sorry, and it's so short! I'm going to write you one or two more drabbles around this relationship, so I hope that makes up for it. :)

Also, the rest of this story will **not** be in freeverse.

* * *

The minutes that e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g

s

p

i

n

s

out of _**control,**_

The (seconds) that make you

Realize... _Understand._

The

**single**

moment that _c-h-a-n-g-e-s_ your _life._

That was Lily. It was always (_**always forever**_, **always** and _forever_)

L

I

L

Y

She is a w.h.i.r.l.w.i.n.d that you

**wantwantwant**

to be pulled into,

_not _a

**s**

**p**

**i**

**r**

**a**

**l**

that d..r..a..g..s you into

n-o-t-h-i-n-g-n-e-s-s

(it's _**nothing**_ like people say)

'Lily and Scorpius,'

they _whisper…_

'they'll **never **be happy.'

They're **wrong.**

**(aren't they? Please?)**

She

_g_

_l_

_o_

_w_

_e_

_d_

from the second

you set eyes on _**her**_.

Always _shiningshiningshining _**brighter** than

everyone/anyone,

always laughing LOUDER,

(:smiling bigger:)

**s-o-m-e-t-i-m-e-s**

(just _sometimes_)

you get **bad.**

And the floor

f

a

l

l

s

_o-u-t_ from underneath your feet

**and** you don't know _why(whywhy__**WHY**__)_

_(it's the alcohol, blame it on the alcohol)_

**and** you find yourself **gripping** her like your

-lifeline-

**and** you know why people say _what_ they say…

_(it's ruining you, the whiskyvodkabrandy__**anything**__)_

you **hurt**

_her_

you break

_**her**_

the _badbad_**BAD **whirlwind is

you

_her _downward spiral is

**you.**

* * *

**AN- **My first freeverse! God, I hope it's not bad. Please review, favourite, alert (there will be more drabbles to this!) lots of love :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Word Count: **679

**Challenge/Competition:** Gift-Giving Extravaganza!

**Prompts:** LilyScorpius

**Warnings: **None

**Disclaimer:** I don't claim to own Harry Potter, it's all JKR's.

**Notes: **Obviously, still in the same world as the previous chapter. For xThePaintedLady - thank you for your wonderful, helpful review on the last chapter and I hope you like this too!

* * *

**_Maybe if we hope and avoid, and patch ourselves up_**

* * *

She sighs, telling herself to take a deep breath. And another, and another. In, out. Breathe.

And then she tells herself: _see? It's not that hard. _But she doesn't just mean breathing, she means everything.

She'll crack, and the cracks will grow – they become gaping holes and then every morning at this time (when the birds are singing and the sky is tinged with oranges) she patches herself back together.

Because: _it's not that hard_.

But it is.

So she just likes to take the time each morning to do this. To remind herself. To pull herself back together before she pulls the curtains apart and lets the light shine through.

As the time is nearing eight, she figures now is as good a time as any. The night is further away. Things aren't so bad in the day – she can handle day time, because the monsters hide and his desperate need isn't quite so prominent.

He tries, she'll give him that. He tries, but not enough. So she ends up the only one _really_ trying.

"Wake up;" she whispers softly, "It's almost eight." And she winces as her hands grasp the green curtains and pull them open, the brightness of the morning light beaming into the bedroom

And he groans, so she turns. The sight she finds is the same – it's always the same, and a little scratch in her patching forms. She watches as he winces at the light, dark rings encircling his eyes, his skin translucent and pallid.

A mess. He's a mess.

Well, so is she. But does that matter?

She loves him, and she loves him with her every fibre. She believes in him in the strangest way – like everything will get better eventually, like everything is going to be okay because when has it ever not been?

Every morning, she opens her mouth to say something. To begin something. Or maybe, to end it. To leave. Either way, she'll never find out – she snaps her mouth shut the second he pushes himself up from that bed simply because he's up and that's almost more than she expects.

It's awful – she knows it's all awful, but there are just these moments that she lives for. And so she'll pretend because he's willing to pretend, just until there's nothing left pumping through his veins and he _needs_ the bottle (also known as the evenings).

"Good morning, beautiful. You sleep well?" he croaks groggily, rubbing his red eyes and bringing out more red by doing so. He moves across the room to where she stands at the window, and pulls her into his arms while smiling weakly.

"Yeah, thank you," she sighs, slightly. If she mentions the fact that he's barely slept, then the illusion is shattered. Then the silence looms over them, and the elephant in the room tramples them. She knows avoidance does nothing in the long run, and she knows it's the cowardly thing to do but honestly, she doesn't care – not anymore. She _needs _peaceful moments with him because if she doesn't have them she won't want to keep patching herself up. She'll allow the cracks to grow into gaping holes, and she'll just let herself crumble.

She'll give up.

So they go to breakfast and they avoid, just like every day. Yesterday, they mucked about with a crossword and drank a lot of coffee until he didn't want to muck about anymore and he just wanted to take aspirin and sleep. Today, she tells him about a story she's writing and he drinks a lot of coffee and he doesn't complain much, he takes a paracetamol quietly and listens to her story so far.

And as he smiles at her so genuinely, pulling her onto his lap and practically promising her the world, she just wishes that tonight will be a nice night. That she won't have to lock herself in her room – scared, alone, _ready to leave. _She hopes and prays that it can be the sort of night that turns into the nice sort day like they've had today.

* * *

**AN- **Next of the drabbles will be the night. (basically, I wrote a one shot based on LilyScorpius with alcoholic Scorpius, and this is just an expansion, so I have ideas). But yeah, I hope you guys liked this. Please review, favourite, alert. It means a lot!


	3. Chapter 3

**Word Count: **828

**Warnings: **Depictions of alcohol addiction.

**Disclaimer:** I don't claim to own Harry Potter, it's all JKR's.

* * *

**_The evening fear_**

* * *

She shakes her leg as that restless feeling creeps its way through her veins. The watch on her wrist ticks, and it stirs her nerves around her stomach. Evening is coming.

It's awful that she has to live in this circle of anxiety, hoping for the best but expecting the worst, just accepting what she gets given. She's got a pretty crap deal, if she's honest with herself, because this is not what she deserves. Not after everything she's done for him.

This is why she can't have faith in anything. Why do bad things happen to good people? Granted, she may have been the rebellious school girl with promiscuous party-girl tendencies, but she's never been a bad person. Not then, not now, not ever. She'll allow herself that, if nothing else.

If she could have anything in the world, she would have Scorpius get better. Get better, she smiles sarcastically to herself. He's not ill. Not really. And she knows that people have it worse - homelessness, terminal illness, but an addiction is worse than people realise. It absolutely manifests itself inside the person until they _become_ the addiction. It's utterly terrifying to see what he has become.

But she just can't for the life of her leave him, because then there is no hope. With no job, no family, nothing to really live for, it's just Lily. It's like he's holding onto life by a thread, and Lily is that thread. As she pulls the drapes shut, she takes a deep breath so as to steady her frazzled nerves. It's just like every other night, she tells herself - it'll be fine, he loves you.

As she steps into the living room, her heart skips a beat. She doesn't know why, because this is what she sees every night, but it will always be just as shocking to her. He's a mess already, even as he sits looking completely sane and calm, pouring whiskey into a glass in a completely civilised manner. Unfortunately, it's so much more. It's Scorpius giving into his demons and pouring them into his body.

Sometimes, she finds it hard to restrain herself from running across the room and just throwing the bottle to the floor. She wants to grab all the alcohol from the cabinets, and pour it down the sink. It's almost as bad as having another person in their relationship, it feels like he's having an affair with the alcohol. And she's tried before, to make him clean, and he's managed it - maybe for a week or so, but every time, he ends up back where he was. So she can't bring herself to stop him, all broken pieces of a broken man, she'd almost rather see him with alcohol instead of blood in his veins than the hollow shell of a man he becomes without drink.

"You okay?" she offers, taking a tentative step towards him.

"Leave me alone," he mumbles, tipping another glass of the liquid into his mouth.

Lily narrows her eyes, trying to judge his state. Angry or sad? "Please..." she attempts, but as he hits the glass off of the table, she discovers that it's anger glinting in his stormy eyes. Knowing better than to continue trying with him while he's like this, with fear clawing its way through her, she turns away to take herself up to her- their room. She hates that she's terrified of her own husband, and she's well aware that it's messed up, but it's just such a complicated situation.

As she lays in bed staring up at the ceiling, she wishes that she didn't have to wait up for him because exhaustion saturates her every fiber, but she can't sleep without him next to her. Minutes later, she hears heavy, slow footfalls against the stairs and then along the hallway.

"I'm sorry," he whimpers, and although it's so dark she can barely see him, she can just about make out the crumpled expression of his face.

It's not like this, it's never like this. A lump forms in her throat, because she's reminded of just how broken he is. "It's okay. Come here," she whispers, reaching out into the dark for him.

He stumbles across the room and falls onto the bed, narrowly missing Lily. "I love you, I love you, I love you," he says frantically, grabbing for her.

"Scorpius don't do that, I'm here. It's okay," she says soothingly, stroking the inside of his arm. "You have to stop." But she knows that he won't.

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" he gasps in between sobs.

"Just go to sleep." She kisses him softly, and puts her head against his chest, still stroking his arm. It's oddly peaceful, but situations like this just make her want to run away more than ever. It's terrifying. Still, her frantic thoughts fade as his cries stop and his breathing becomes even, and she sleeps.

Tomorrow, there's always tomorrow.

* * *

**AN- **Hello hello hello! I'm so so sorry it's been so long since I've updated this but if you didn't know I've been on hiatus for the past two months. However, I am back, and hope to get straight back into writing again. I hope this was enjoyed, and I think I might write more for this. Good idea? Please leave a review, it'd be lovely to hear all your thoughts :)


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